Wolf Cubs
by Aisling-Siobhan
Summary: FenrirHarry friendship. Takes place within The Erlking my fiction . What if Harry and Fenrir knew each other but Harry couldnt remember? What would their meeting have been like?


Hey all, this is a one-shot set within The Erlking Era, but it's a Fenrir/Harry friendship pairing, because someone wanted to

Hey all, this is a one-shot set within The Erlking Era, but it's a Fenrir/Harry friendship pairing, because someone wanted to see it, and I haven't done a Fenrir fiction yet and I wanted to see how it goes. Enjoy.

If you want to read it as part of **The Erlking** then, the chapter has been added already. Please let me know what you think! Thank you!

The first part takes place between Chapters 3 and 4. The year is between April 1986 and February 1987. Remus isn't here, because he doesn't come in till Chapter 5. The second part takes place after Chapter 10, year August 1996.

The second part of this fiction was inspired mostly by "ams71080" at FFnet. Thanks to you, because I was having difficulties coming up with a plausible storyline that fit with **The Erlking**. Also, "ams71080" happens to be my 200th reviewer!! I only need 198 reviews more to beat **Wolf** .

**Words: **3,690

**Chapter 11**

**Intermission: ****Wolf Cubs**

June 1986. Two months after The Erlking took Harry.

Harry had only been with the Erlking for two months before the creature decided it was high time to change forests. They left the Eternal Lodge, and they hunted in a small forest area in Germany. It was a completely Muggle area, and the townsfolk didn't know what had hit them. Not only were bodies turning up completely mangled, they also, now, seemed to have had their souls sucked out.

The Erlking didn't seem to be too bothered by the very obvious presence of a pack of Werewolves. In fact, he had even given the Huntsmen orders to not harm the wolves. Now, normally, werewolves were not hunted. The Hunt preferred to recruit wolves, to make them one of their own, a Hunter, rather than merely prey. So it wasn't unnatural to be told to not attack. However, Harry was a little confused.

He had only been there two months, and he had learnt very little of their ways in that time. He hadn't even known that Werewolves existed. To be told that, not only could men and women turn into wolves on the full moon, but also that a pack of them were living very close to him, was something he couldn't quite process. Words just sometimes were not enough.

It took actions sometimes to make a point sink in. The emphasis was usually in the visual image. While the spoken word was a nice touch, but was usually overlooked, especially by small children.

The six-year-old boy scratched his head in thought, biting the corner of his lip as he looked around, making sure everyone was asleep. When he was satisfied that no one was awake to miss him, he slowly slipped out of Genetrix's arms. He swallowed heavily as she shifted, but then she rolled over and continued to sleep. Harry let out a long breath, and completely forgetting he wasn't trying to flee unnoticed, he ran from the clearing, giggling loudly.

He was soon immersed in trees. He turned around, contemplating going back, but then realized he didn't know which way was back. With a deep breath, he carried on walking forward. Every now and then, Harry would trip over a tree root. The roots were almost as big as him, never mind how tall the trees were. Harry looked up as he walked, eyeing the tops of the trees, and they way they seemed to brush against the sky. He sighed, smiling softly as he looked ahead just in time to spot the low hanging branch that was about to smack him in the face. He ducked and grinned. Harry couldn't wait until he was big. When he was tall, and big, no one would be horrible to him like Uncle Vernon had been. There wouldn't be any more boys like Dudley trying to beat him up. Instead, he'd be big enough to hit Dudley back, and maybe Dudley would fall over or something. Harry would have felt horrible thinking that if he had known that Dudley was dead.

Now, Harry hadn't left as unnoticed, as he would have hoped. The entire time he walked through the trees the Erlking silently trailed behind him, lips twitching at Harry's amusing thoughts. Audenarde's eyes softened every time Harry let out a giggle or fell over himself.

While Harry stared up at the trees again, the Erlking subtly manipulated the trees and the braches so they seemed to bend out of the way, causing far less of them to hit Harry as the boy passed, as they would have done naturally. One or two tree roots even sunk back into the ground just in time to prevent Harry tripping over them. The Erlking didn't want his beloved boy too badly bruised up by his midnight excursion.

Eventually, Harry sighed and dropped to the floor, tucking his legs beneath him. "I'm lost," he whispered to a spider, which was hanging from a branch above his head. Harry held his hand out, and the spider fell into the palm of his hand. With gentle fingers, Harry stroked the spiders back. "I'm really, really lost. But I'm not afraid. I know He'll find me." Harry smiled warmly and placed the spider back on the tree, and then he watched as it climbed back up to its web.

Harry let out a yawn. He watched, happily, as the growingly familiar fog began to rise off the forest floor and wrap around him like a blanket. Where he had once feared the same mist, he now cherished its presence, for it meant that the Erlking was not angry with him for disappearing. And it meant that the Erlking was still out there, somewhere, looking for him.

In fact, the Erlking was looking right at him. When Audenarde was sure Harry was asleep, he picked the boy up and laid him in his own lap. He hummed to himself, running his fingers through Harry's shaggy black hair as he watched the boy sleep.

When the sun rose, Audenarde was back with the Huntsmen, and someone else stood guard over the beloved boy.

Harry yawned, his arms stretched over his head, chasing after the sun that shined a little too brightly for his liking. He stifled a gasp as he noticed another man, someone he was not familiar with, sitting beside him. Harry's fingers covered his mouth, and he hoped the other man hadn't noticed he was awake. As silently as he could manage, Harry got to his knees and tried to crawl away from the stranger.

A hand clamped over his ankle, and pulled him backwards. Harry's fingers dug into the earth, trying to keep crawling. The other man chuckled. His voice was deep, and husky as if he had spent the night screaming – maybe in pain, or during amazing sex, but Harry was too young to know either way. Harry turned his head, fearfully eyeing the stranger.

"Fear not," he growled, his eyes were almost amber with flecks of silver. But they looked down on Harry kindly, and the boy found himself relaxing. "I have been asked to mind you for a day or two."

"By the Erlking?" Harry asked, delighted to realize the strange man who still gripped his leg was not actually a stranger.

"Yes," he drawled. He released Harry's ankle and used that hand to brush back his shoulder length silver hair. Harry eyed it, biting down on his lip in contemplation. The man's hair wasn't originally silver, he decided, because the eyebrows were brown. Harry giggled. "What is it?"

"You're old." He giggled again, his mouth hidden behind his hands. "All your hair has gone gray."

"I'm not old," he growled back. "I'm distinguished." Harry gave him a strange look and the man realized the boy probably didn't know what that word meant. "My name is Fenrir Greyback, and who might you be, Pup?"

"I'm Harry!" He held his hand out, and Fenrir shook it with a smirk. "What's a pup?"

Fenrir chuckled, standing up and pulling Harry to his feet as well. "A pup is a young dog, just like a cub is a young wolf. But sometimes we call wolf cubs, pups as well." He paused. "I believe some humans called impudent children pups as well."

"I'm not impude- impudeian- what does that word mean anyway?" He huffed, having given up on being indignant when he realized he couldn't pronounce the word anyway.

"Don't worry Cub." Fenrir rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. He propelled the boy forward with a small shove, and Harry turned to pout at the werewolf. "This way. Keep up." With that, Fenrir took off at a jog and Harry was too stunned to react. But that only lasted a moment. Spending two months with the Huntsmen who worshiped him had done wonders for his self-esteem, and so, with a war cry, he charged after Fenrir. He fell over quite a few times before he caught up, but he still had fun.

The silver haired man was practically in stitches laughing by the time Harry tackled his legs, panting hard. "Caught you." The boy yelled, delighted with himself.

His face took on a rosy hue, and his eyes widened in fear as he noticed the thirty-or-so others sitting in various states of undress, all staring at him. A handful of them had even bared their teeth at him. Harry let go of Fenrir and took hurried steps backwards, the space between him and the Alpha caused the others to relax, but Harry was honestly terrified. There had never been so many people around him at once whose very presence reminded him of Vernon Dursley. He swallowed. Before he could run away a hand clamped around his wrist, and pulled him towards the group.

The mist followed him. When the werewolves noticed the fog their eyes widened and they turned to look at their Alpha and then at the small boy. "This is Harry," Fenrir said in his deep voice, which carried well. Everyone paid attention to him, anxious to hear his next words. "He is the beloved boy, and we will be minding him for the next day or so."

The others began to talk amongst themselves, and Harry only heard a few words, but it was enough. After hearing 'full moon' and 'tonight' more than seven times, it finally dawned on him. "You're all werewolves!" He gasped, and clapped his hands together in delight. "They were telling the truth!"

"Yes," Fenrir said, smiling, "we are, and tonight is our second full moon of the month." Harry didn't look scared. When he had thought that these were normal people like his uncle, he had been terrified, but now that he realized that they were magical beings that belonged in this new world of his, he wasn't afraid. No more than he was while he was lost in the forest. The Erlking had sworn to protect him, and Harry believed with all his heart that no magical, fantastical creature would dare go against the Erlking.

It was amusing, to say the least, and Harry had a good time. The other werewolves were almost tripping over themselves to please Harry when they realized he wasn't a threat to their Alpha, and that he was the beloved of the King of the Alders. Not to mention that their Alpha was rather taken with him. Usually the cubs played by themselves, but, as Harry was with them, Fenrir had taken to following them wherever they went that day. He had even joined in on one or two of their chases, all of which resulted in Harry getting pinned to the ground because he couldn't run as fast as the wolves. Fenrir took a rather perverse pleasure in seeing the powerful boy writhing beneath the bigger children and pouting.

"It's only cause I'm so small," Harry said shoving Fenrir lightly. "I'll get bigger one day and then you won't be laughing any more. I'll get you."

"I'm shaking in my boots, Cub." Fenrir teased lightly.

It wasn't very funny, however, when Harry frowned and looked down at Fenrir's bare feet. "You aren't wearing boots, silly." The silver haired man just chuckled deeply. Harry pouted again.

That night, when the sun began to set, the children huddled beside their mothers while the fathers stood around with each other. The Alpha lay on his side on a pile of leaves. When Harry lay down beside him, the leaves seemed to shift lightly as the mist engulfed them. When the mist retreated, the leaves lay strewn in a circle around both Fenrir and Harry, creating a nest of sorts. Harry laughed in amazement, and Fenrir smiled at the innocence of the child, at the strength of the boy who had made those leaves move and didn't even know it.

Harry settled down to sleep, but was woken by screaming, and crying. Most of the sounds came from the children, and their mothers joined in distressed by the pain of their cubs. Harry frowned, and turned to Fenrir. "Why are they-?" He froze, the words caught in his mouth. Fenrir was no longer lying beside him. In Fenrir's place was a very large silver wolf. Harry hesitantly reached out and ran his fingers through the course gray hair. "Amazing," he breathed lightly.

Fenrir lifted his head, and followed by the members of his pack that had completed the change, he howled up at the moon. Harry, with a silly smile on his face, howled with him. At the very edge of the clearing, the Erlking watched his beloved boy. Feelings of jealousy and anger stirred within him, but he could not make himself remain angry with the beautiful boy, for it was not Harry's fault he was so beautiful and kind. He grinned to himself, a terrifying sight, and turned back to his own pack, content that Harry was safe for the night.

The next morning, Fenrir woke, fully human and naked to the sight of Harry Potter staring at him. Harry's fingers played in his hair and the boy was muttering under his breath. "What are you saying?" Fenrir asked curiously. Harry was talking so quietly that even a werewolf couldn't make out the words.

"This story, about a big bad wolf and a little girl. Someone once told me, I don't know if they were joking, but they said that werewolves were born when the girl and the wolf lay down together." Harry frowned. "Like us."

Fenrir coughed. He knew the story well, and it wasn't laying down the wolf did with the girl. Unsure whether he should explain the birds and the bees to a child so young, and not of his own pack, Fenrir improvised. "They also got married."

"Did they like each other a lot?" Harry asked with a smile, his finger still in Fenrir's hair.

"They must have, why?"

Harry sighed. "There was this girl at school, and she only spoke to me if my cousin wasn't in school. But her mum liked this man, and they got married. And then, she said her mum loved the man, and they had another baby." Fenrir nodded noncommittally. "I like you. You're very nice," Harry snuggled closer to the naked werewolf, who blushed at the reaction of his body.

"I like you too."

"We should get married." Harry sat up, a huge smile on his face. Fenrir's shell-shocked expression wasn't enough to deter Harry. "We like each other so we should get married."

"And what about cubs?" Fenrir asked, playing along.

Harry frowned. He stood up, and straightened out his shirt. "Cubs?"

"Young. You usually have children when you get married." Fenrir stood also, and gratefully accepted the trousers held out to him by his beta.

Harry rubbed his forehead, thinking hard. "You said cubs were baby wolves, right?" Fenrir just nodded. His hand on the small of Harry's back pushed the boy towards the fireplace where meat was being cooked. "Where would we get cubs?" A few other werewolves choked on their food at Harry's words. "I don't know any shops where I used to live that sold wolves!"

Fenrir thought it would be very rude to laugh at the boy, especially since he wouldn't be able to explain away his laughter without explain to Harry the mechanics of reproduction. "When you're older, Harry." He said, handing the boy a steak. "Eat up, you have to go back to the Erlking later today."

Harry ate, as he was told to. And he never brought up the idea of having cubs with Fenrir Greyback again. But then, he didn't really remember much about that time, and he didn't really remember the man at all. He could vaguely remember having to eat meat for two days straight, but that wasn't much different to being fed by the Huntsmen.

While most children do not remember much about their childhoods, Harry's memory loss was different. After all, the Erlking was a jealous creature with the ability to read minds and thoughts. It could, therefore, be possible for him to affect the memory as well.

_XXX_

August 8th 1996. – During Chapter 10.

Fenrir could hear Voldemort calling out to him, telling him to move away from Harry and go towards the small number of Death Eaters. But Fenrir didn't want to. He wanted to stay beside the beloved boy and take care of him, to protect him. If he was with Death Eaters it couldn't be a good thing. And where were the Huntsmen? Shouldn't they have tried to rescue him by now?

Fenrir had also noticed the addition of his only sired wolf, Remus Lupin, and a large black dog. They lay down with his pack, and no amount of growling had gotten them to move. His attention was firmly on the sleeping dark haired boy. Said boy had a blond teenager half sitting on top of him, shaking like a leaf. Did the blond honestly think he would allow harm to come to anyone close to Harry? It was ludicrous. He had protected Harry, he had run with the Hunt; he would not do either the dishonour of harming a friend.

When Harry shifted and yawned, Fenrir felt a smirk break out, as much as a wolf could smirk. He changed back, followed by the rest of the pack, as the moon set. "Sleep well?" Harry asked the blond boy, who scowled. "That was the best nights sleep I've had in ages."

"Speak for yourself, Potter." The blond snarled before making his way to the Death Eater that was obviously his mother. Fenrir was tempted to rip his throat out for the disrespectful tone, but Harry looked amused only, not affronted, so Fenrir let it rest.

He made his way to Lupin and the dog, which turned into Sirius Black. They talked to each other, while Fenrir worked out the stiffness in his back and shoulders. Remus was whispering to Harry when Fenrir moved to stand behind the black haired teenager. "He's never seen you around our kind."

"My kind and your kind have always co-existed." Fenrir's voice was deep and husky and Harry shuddered as it caressed his ears. "It has been far too long, Cub."

Harry spun to face him, eyes narrowed and Fenrir resisted the urge to flinch. "I am not a cub." The boy had certainly grown up. His presence was more commanding, his very being screamed power and it made Fenrir shudder in pleasure. They bantered back and forth, and to Fenrir's mind it seemed as if Harry was playing hard to get, when of course Harry honestly didn't know who this man was or why he felt so comfortable around him.

The walked away together, neither caring about Fenrir's nakedness. "You are older now, mate." Fenrir drawled out, his voice seductively low. His arm reached out for the boy who had wanted to marry him at the age of six. Harry slapped the arm away with a frown.

"I am promised to the Dark Lord," he whispered hurriedly. "Sorry, but do I know you?" Fenrir's mouth opened and closed, but he couldn't make the words come out. Instead he just shook his head slightly, and dropped his arm. His fists were clenched by his sides, and his only consolation was that he could smell Voldemort's anger a mile away.

"Don't look at me. I didn't know they knew each other!" Remus shouted, more than likely, Fenrir thought, because everyone was staring at him.

"We don't!" Fenrir called back, realizing that Harry honestly didn't remember him, "but he is the beloved boy, is he not?"

Harry turned to frown at him. They were already some time away from the others before the brunette spoke again. "I do know you don't I?" He paused, biting his lip. "It feels like I know you. I feel safe with you, and that usually only happens when I know someone."

Fenrir thought of telling him, of begging the boy to remember but then thought better of it. Harry was engaged to Lord Voldemort, and his wrath was bad enough. But when combined with the idea of pissing off the Erlking, it seemed like biting off more than Fenrir knew he could chew. Harry had obviously forgotten for a reason, no doubt because of the famous possessive streak Audenarde had. But, honestly, Fenrir didn't mind. While he was attracted to the boy, and enjoyed the thought of making cubs with Harry, he had to admit, that Harry's destiny was already planned out, and being a werewolf wasn't part of the package.

And anyway, Fenrir would always have his memories. "No, we've never met before. Fenrir Greyback by the way."

"I know." Harry whispered, more confused than ever when Fenrir only smiled.

A hand on the small of his back propelled him forward, and Harry allowed the hand to remain there the rest of the walk to Malfoy Manor. He allowed Fenrir to pull out his chair in the dining hall, and when Voldemort walked in and saw the way Harry was hanging off every word of Fenrir's, the dark haired boy couldn't help but giggle a little, inside.

Fenrir waited until Harry had finished eating before offering to walk Harry to an actual bed. The growl of jealousy Voldemort let out as Fenrir led Harry from the room, hand in hand, would have made any punishment worthwhile. So, Fenrir hadn't been able to defeat the jealousies of the Erlking, but he sure could get one over on a jealous Voldemort, for a little while.

"It really was good to see you again," Fenrir whispered as they reached Voldemort's bedroom.

Harry had already closed the door before he realized something. Fenrir had said 'again', more than once. He opened the door to ask a question, but Fenrir was gone. Did that imply that he and Fenrir had met before? Harry smirked, and wondered; when and where had he met Fenrir Greyback, and why the hell he couldn't remember (as long as it wasn't an embarrassing memory, in which case he wouldn't mind forgetting).

**XXX**

Thanks for reading. A chapter of The Erlking will actually be up soon, ok. Hope you enjoyed it, and are inclined to review.


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